Me vs. Rut...

summarily...

...just to clarify, the insanity of survivor needs to be stopped.  racially assigned tribes?  is this really the  can of worms we want to open... what, in the midst of all the other "oh-so-fun" racially charged topics that we havent dealt with in this country?   cuz, yall, this is a HUGE can.  just say "NO!" to survivor.

"talk" is cheap and pictures are worth a thousand words

i am late getting the information, but better late than never.  for the the "babytalk" readers, for kateri, for the revolution...

     

food poisioning

yeah. 

its not fun. 

be back soon.

bah humbug.

i wanted to wait till i was in a better mood to post, but nothing has happened to improve my attitude. (although milenka did make me smile!) 

basically, my child entered the "tantrum" phase at about 150mph and had a head on collision with my horrible week... the crash was horrible and we both have sustained multiple (emotional) injuries. 

i am no longer employed at the furniture store - my choice, but oh what an ugly situation it was.

i have no job.  we have no insurance.  i am paranoid as hell.

hubby was furloughed.  the state of new jersey sucks. he's back to work now, but we lost a significant chunk of money because of the damn budget crisis...  and again, i have no income so we are basically screwed this month.

no one will hire me.  i applied to a phenomonal position at one of the area private schools, and just emailed the dude in charge of staff, and he emails me back essentially saying "we are almost done filling the position.  have a good day."  um, what am i supposed to do with that?  people who were supposed to get back to me regarding my resumes never returned my calls, and so many places refuse to let you talk to an actual person, instead, relying on on-line applications and faxed things.  hello??!!  can i talk to a real person please?  can someone tell me something- anything- even if it is bad news so that i can get on with my life and look elsewhere??!!  what does a sista have to do to get a job??!!

dammit, my child is falling out on the floor and wailing like a wounded puma because i wont pick her up.  i swear, if she keeps flailing her head back and forth all fast like that, its gonna detach. oh, the drama.  gotta go. 

think about it

this is the comment i left over here in regards those damn "mommy wars" (i cant stand that title, but it stands as the most recognized title that doesnt require me to think too hard.)

.

(note the sarcasm)

.

"i have one comment to make. (mind you, i could talk for hours about the subject, but it would basically cover so many things that have already been said, which is why i will only make ONE comment.)

here we go: concidering the current state of society, politics, morality, the world - wouldnt it serve us well if those educated, savvy, women who have experience dealing with "risk", pressure, and all the skills that come along with the career world ARE the ones who bring up the next generations? i mean, really, dont we WANT those types of minds doing the one job that matters most to the future state of the world? 

you know?"

you do the math

well, my dears.  i have hard news.  well, hard for me.  i am sure you all will be able to function as normal.  i am devistated:

i had 2 huge exams this week.  each counted for 25% of a final grade.  i failed them both.

my graduation?  not likely.

and i dont even know how to deal with this.  so i need to just... i dont know.  be gone for a while.  focus and try to figure some stuff out.  try not to just shut down.  try to find a reason to not call myself a complete fuck-up and a complete failure.

i need time. 

be back in may.

can i get some support, PLEASE???!!!

maybe its just me.  but i hate, hate, HATE when people who are watching my child for me while i am in class (ahem) say things like:

"no, muppet, you have to eat because your mother says so and mother is the BOSS."

or

"well, your mother says that you cant touch that power cord and you know that she is the BOSS so you have to do what she says."

now, what kind of mess is that?  cant we have some solidarity?  cant she be required to eat her food because it is healthy and good for her and will help her grow big and strong?  how bout not touching the cord because it is dangerous!?    why is my baby being told, essentially, that "mama is the damn warden and is forcing you to adhere to these horrid rules, but if it were up to me, you could run buck wild!"

i have always said that i would never say "because i said so!" to my child, mainly because i hated that as a child.  (i assert that i may use this phrase once she is older and knows better, but not in the formative years where "why?" is often a very valid question opening the door for great learning opportunities.)   not that i constantly questioned my parents, but i just liked the consideration of communication.  you know?  so to have someone tell my child "because mama said so!" pisses me off.  really, really really.  (not to mention the fact that it makes the caretaker look extremely irresponsible and nonchalant about my daughters actions.)

the best one was when i was putting on my socks in the bedroom and heard her tell my child:

"you have to eat it all or your mother is going to come out here and beat us up!" 

at that, i had to yell:

"dont tell my child that!  dont you EVER tell my child that i am going to beat her up!"

the response?  the caretaker just laughed.  i swear...  just 2 more months... just 2 more months....

profiled, aghast

to say  that today was a bad day would be an understatement. 

i keep trying to start this story (the editorial version) but  each time, i delete my words because they do not adequately convey what happened, what i am feeling about it, the way i have been affected.

basically,  i used a ticket machine (paid cash) to purchase admission on the subway.  when i got to my destination, the cops were there asking all passengers to exit, slowly, single file.  as i emerged, they  ("asked" makes it seem like they were nice about it.  they "ordered") me to step to the side.  they were hesitant to talk to me, and i was both shocked at the fact that i was singled out and hugely intimidated... because historically : young black people in urban environments + big white male cops with guns = possible unpleasant situation. 

they told me that i was being detained for credit card fraud, and possibly theft.  whaaaaaaaAAAAAAAT THE FUCK???!!!!    so...

i politely told them that they were mistaken, which they took to be very funny.

i maintained my innocence. 

they demanded all types of identification, then back up identification,

yada yada,

i was apparently the main attraction at the train station because there was some serious rubbernecking happening all around me,

yada yada,

i began to cry out of not just frustration, but sheer PISSTIVITY (i always cry when angry and i hate that about myself because it makes me appear sad, weepy and flustered when in actuality, it helps me make my thoughts more concise and strengthens my resolve)

they told me that they traced back the most recent fraudulent credit scam purchase thing to the machine that i was using at the time i was using it, and they saw me on film

i told them that they needed to watch more carefully because i used CASH, not a card, and look - see my receipt?  it says CASH!

yada yada,

they asked me to look up into the security camera and i turned, smiled, and waved

they were being very cold to me

i had bazillions of things in my bag with my name on it, including a big ass notarized paper from the registrars office, thank GOD

i kept telling them that i was NOT their person, and that there is no way that their tape shows me using a stolen  card because i fucking DIDNT

they called for reinforcements and backup and whatnot (the "big guns," pun intended) 

i was about to demand that the let me make a phone call to my lawyer (no, i dont have a lawyer.  but i DO have an uncle who is a detective who would have been "more than happy" to handle some shit)

they kept asking me the same questions, i finally pulled every thing i had on me out of my bag, put it all in the hands of some suit, and sat back, silently

yada yada, and the rubber necking continued

they began to think... hmm... maybe this tear-stained, pissed off chick that we are emotionally scarring didnt make a fraudulent scammy purchase that our cameras clearly show that she didnt

they took me up to their little station upstairs

i steeled myself to refuse to give fingerprints, photos, etc without a warrant (dont know if that was all even applicable, but i was mentally preparing myself)

yada yada

they kept telling me that the machine was "clocking" me at the time/scene of the credit card use

so?! look at the fucking SECURITY TAPE dumbasses!!!  I USED CASH!!!

mind you, i was missing classes

yada yada

they eventually couldnt detain me any longer, because clearly, i didnt do what they insisted i did and clearly, the name on all my stuff was NOT the name on the stolen stuff

they wanted me to look at all these pictures of all these criminals to see if i "recognized" any of them

the questions about what happened and who was there around me when i used the machine just. would. not. stop.

i told them i didnt know any of them, told them i wanted the case number and their names, and i left

ladies and gentlemen of the internet.

i feel...  not outraged, not humiliated, not violated, not disgusted... but a very unique combination of the four.  plus some other stuff thrown in for good measure.

some may argue that they were doing their jobs.  maybe so.  but they were doing it WRONG because the bottom line is... i was NOT doing what they thought i did.  their machines or the machines of the credit card company were OFF and i was the unfortunate recipient of the consequences of the off-ness.  they were so caught up in the timing of whatever, that they did not pay enough attention to the tape to see that i clearly used currency.  and i wasnt all up on the machine, either.  it was clear.  it was clearly obvious that i put a bill into the bill-suck slot thing.  and bent down and took change from the bottom row change thing.  LOOK AT THE FUCKING TAPE, MORONS!!!

i am angry, that goes without saying.  but it is a deep, quiet anger.  i am seething.  because i was treated like a criminal.  and it was unwarranted. 

because they wanted, so badly, to make an arrest, they didnt take the time to PAY ATTENTION.  and that knowledge sickens me.  mistakes.  yeah, we all make them, but this wasnt just a mistake.  it was negligence on their part.  i feel SO PROFILED.  like - "yeah, thats got to be her!" based on my appearance instead of my actions.

WHEN MY INNOCENT ACTIONS WERE CLEARLY OBVIOUS!!!

are you feeling me?  do you see why i am so angry?  i mean, the security camera was my "get out of jail free" card!  it taped me doing something other than what they thought!  but apparently, recorded documentation is more readily accepted when proving guilt than when proving innocence.

and i am now emotionally fucked up for the rest of the day. 

this is just SO appropriate...

http://tlc.discovery.com/fansites/lifelessons/lifelessons.html?fid=1412041

public enemy #1

okay, let me tell you why. 

saturday morning, in the wee hours (fo'day, as we say down home in ga) muppets "magic nuk" got lost.  (and of course, the whole world screeched to a halt because that girl can get pretty darn irate when she has thrown/hidden her pacifier and stupid mama and papa cant find it!)

but aha!  mama is clever!  i bought 2 spares (well, truth be told, we were already using one of the spares as the original is in some random nook or cranny in my house)  so i broke out the last spare.  it was lovely and colorful, making my heart resume normal rhythm.  i washed it thoroughly but quickly, and set  it in a pot of water to sterilize.

and then i went into the bedroom, closing the door, promptly forgetting about the nuk.

do you see where this is heading?

maybe, oh, an hour later, the smoke alarm starts SCREECHING (its about 1:30 am? or something like that) and i look up and wonder what is going on.  i mean, it is not the communal one in the hall, it is specifically the one in my apartment, and i know that we are not cooking anything (nor am i burning my incense, the contraband, that i know i need to hide lest it be discovered in the "health and safety inspections" and we get booted out of the university housing)

so i jump up and go into the next room just in time to see johnny grabbing a pot off of the stove... but of course it is sort of  hard to see him through the thick smoke.  (note - he was asleep on the bed/couch) so i throw on clothes, we are scrambling to get the (sole) window open, muppet is flipping out over the noise, and i am thinking "damn damn damn DAMN!" but more profane. 

now, the policy is to evacuate the entire building when there is a fire.  there are, to my knowledge, two new babies (under 6 months) and two bigger babies (2 and 3) not including my own.  it was cooooold outside.  i felt like i deserved to be flogged.

so then, i realize that i am not doing too well with the smoke.   at this point, i am outside with muppet in this big fleece blanket, hacking up a lung.  the fire dept is there, the cops are there, and i am sheepishly trying to explain what happened:

them:  so, um, what happened?

me:  i ack ack was ack sterilizing nipples and stuff and hork! hork! i think that ack ack i HORK! forgot and huuuuuuuuhk!  huuuuuuuuhk! (vomit) then i , um, okay wait, i cant breathe...

yeah.  good times.  so then the one police woman says that i sound asthmatic and i tell her that i had childhood asthma.  while frantically  trying to explain that it has been long years since an attack and i am really fine, she is calling the station confirming the ambulance, etc.  hubby then appears, steps barefoot into my vomit, and is all concerned at the dry heaving that i am doing...........

and then......

its graphic (and would be embarassing if i had any shame)........

i coughed so hard, i peed my pants.

ba DUM pum. chhhhh!

and then all this other stuff was going on, and the ambulance arrived, but i wasnt going ANYWHERE till i changed myself, and to make a really long story a wee bit shorter, the baby and i were checked out, we are fine, and i am creeping in and out of the building with a black hoodie and camouflage paint on my face.  cuz, you know, they did evacuate the building.  and it was cold.  and i stupidly forgot the pot on the stove.  and they all really do have reason to stone me.

oh wait!  heres the best part!!!  i didnt even remember the nuk till i saw the pot.  (yeah, that whole time, i was thinking that i just left the pot with water on the stove, and the pot burnt up)   maaaaaaaaan, there was all this charred, melted, discombobulated plastic gup in the blackened, jacked up pot.  (those pots were a wedding gift.  they were sooooo pretty!  dammit!!)

me:  oooooh.  okay.  so it was burning plastic, huh?  maybe thats why it smells like rancid glue and death in here?   right.  i forgot about the nuk.

johnny:   yeah, dumbass.

i dont think that i am allowed to use the stove anymore.